


Five Times Someone Walked in on Starchild and Byers (and One Time They Walked in on Someone Else)

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Series: 1960s [8]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/M, Humor, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: Byers and Susanne have a fraught but passionate relationship, as their friends witness at first hand.





	Five Times Someone Walked in on Starchild and Byers (and One Time They Walked in on Someone Else)

**Author's Note:**

> This installment in my 1960s AU comes from an idea suggested by how-i-met-your-mulder. I doubt one would get much out of it without reading the previous installments. 
> 
> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

_One_

Diana loved Melissa and Starchild, she really did, but sometimes living with them got on her nerves.  The bathroom was never clean, for one thing: there was always hair in the drain (she’d pointed this out, once, and Starchild had said, “Well, you have the darkest hair,” and Diana had tried to explain that the color of one’s hair had nothing to do with whether it was _in the drain_ , and Starchild had told her she was being a square, and that had been a conversation stopper).  There wasn’t a huge amount of privacy, which was something that went both ways: you were just as likely to end up in the middle of someone else’s business as to have them end up in the middle of yours.  More likely, maybe.  She at least made the effort to go over to Fox’s when the two of them wanted to be alone, but not everyone made that kind of effort.

Like right now, for instance.  This moment ticked two boxes: the bathroom was not clean (stray clothes everywhere, probably bodily fluids) and there was no privacy (Starchild and Byers were misusing the ledge of the sink for decidedly sexual purposes).  Diana usually prided herself on taking things calmly, but she must have made some kind of noise, because Starchild looked over at her.  “Go away, Dee.”

“Why should I go away?” she asked.  “We only have the one bathroom.  And your bedroom is ten feet away.”

“Yeah, but we’re in here already,” Starchild said.  “And you should have knocked.”

“The door was open.”

“You know it doesn’t latch.”

She wasn’t going to back down.  She’d learned this, from everyone she’d previously lived with: her parents, her roommates at boarding school, her roommates at Smith.  _Never back down._   “Two minutes,” she said.  “And when I come back in here I don’t want to see you or any of your clothes.”

They cleared the two minute mark, but just barely: when Diana headed back towards the bathroom she met them going the other way, still mostly undressed.  She decided it was better not to acknowledge them, and she went into the bathroom and pulled the door as close to shut as she could.

 

_Two_

As they walked back to their apartment, they tried their best, but it wasn’t easy.  “Look,” Langly said.  “We get that you’re upset.”

“And we’re fine with that,” Frohike said.  “We’re all for it.  Men can be sensitive these days.”

“But,” Langly said, “are you going to be upset forever?  Everybody gets dumped.  Byers gets dumped once every two weeks.  And think about why she dumped you—”

“She didn’t dump me,” Mulder said.  “Not exactly.  It was just that she was leaving—”

“Right, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Langly said.  “She sold out.  And we’re not just talking about selling out a little.  Like that time Frohike got that haircut so he could get a job.”

“I didn’t ask them to cut it that short,” Frohike said.  “And anyway, you said I needed to make my share of the rent.”

“This was major selling out,” Langly said.  “That guy she works for now—he’d definitely make Top Ten Scuzziest Senators.”

“Top Five,” Frohike said.

“And why would you want to be with a chick who’d do that?” Langly said.  “That’s right.  You wouldn’t.”

“I never said that—”

“Yeah, but you’re going to,” Langly said.  “Soon.”

“Once you know what’s good for you,” Frohike said.  “Monogamy is overrated, anyway.”

“You’re just saying that,” Mulder said, “because you don’t even have it as an option.”

This was probably true, and a serious blow to the argument, but Langly forged ahead.  “What we’re saying is that you need to stop crying.  It’s not doing you any good and it’s a drag on everyone else.  Tonight we’re going to smoke and eat pizza.  Like the four coolest single guys in New York.  Which we are.”

“Obviously I’m number one,” said Frohike.  “But you can be second, Mulder.”

“Thanks, I guess,” Mulder said.

“Why do you think you’re first?” Langly asked.

“Because it’s the truth,” Frohike said.  “Not the point anyway.”  He hoisted the pizza box.  “By the end of tonight, Mulder, you won’t even be thinking about any of this.”

“I’m not sure about that,” Mulder said.

“Frohike’s right,” Langly said; they were at their building now, and they started up the stairs.  “Being single is much better.  We all like it, right?”

“Right,” said Frohike.  “It’s the best way to live.”  They were at their apartment, and Langly unlocked the door as Frohike continued talking.  “Everything’s much calmer.  You don’t have to deal with other people’s weirdness…”  He dropped the pizza box, abruptly; the lid fell off, and the pizza fell on the floor facedown.  Langly was about to lodge a protest when he caught sight of what Frohike was looking at.

He should have guessed.  Byers and Starchild, on the big chair in the living room.  Apparently they were only the three coolest single guys in New York, not the four coolest.

“I use that chair!” Frohike was shouting.

“We locked the door!” Byers shouted back.

“To our apartment!” Frohike said.  “Which we all have keys to, because we live in it!”  He kicked at the pizza box.  “Put some pants on and go buy us a replacement pizza!”

“Guys, I think I’m just going to go,” Mulder said.  “I’m not really…you have things going on…I’m just not in the mood.”

“No, don’t,” Langly said, but Mulder was already on his way towards the stairs; he waved quickly before he disappeared from sight.  Frohike and Byers were still shouting.  So much for the joys of the single life.

 

_Three_

Melissa didn’t know why she was upset.  It wasn’t the first time.  It wasn’t the second time.  It wasn’t the…hell, she’d lost count of what time it was.  And yes, it was weird and off-putting and not a great use of their kitchen counter, but she didn’t think any of that explained the way she was feeling right now.  She tried to think about it, alone now in her room, to take a breath, to process it, to take stock of her own feelings. 

Was she jealous?  She didn’t have anyone, but then again she hadn’t had anyone as long as she’d known Starchild and Byers, and she hadn’t been jealous before.  But of course it was a little different now.  She’d thought she might have someone.  She’d thought she might have someone, and she’d been completely wrong, and there was no point in pretending that didn’t hurt.  She knew she needed to give herself time.  And even though she didn’t think it was something she’d want to do herself, having sex on a kitchen counter, she was a little envious of the fact that they could.  That they cared that little (even if it was unreasonably little) about someone seeing them.  She’d known how Dee had seen things, that next morning: like a dirty little secret.  And Melissa didn’t want to see it that way herself, but a lot of her felt like it had to be.  Like it would have to keep being, if she ever…with another girl…and that was something that was still hard to think about.  A lot of her didn’t want to think about what had happened at all.  She wanted to bury it deep, because it hurt.  She knew that wasn’t healthy.  She couldn’t always care.

There was a knock at her door.  “Yeah?” she said.

Starchild opened the door; she’d put her clothes back on, Melissa was relieved to see.  “Hi,” she said, coming and sitting down on Melissa’s bed.  “You okay?”

Melissa shrugged.  “Where’s Byers?”

“I sent him home,” Starchild said.  In response to Melissa’s questioning look, she added, “You were upset.” 

“I’m…you didn’t have to…”  That wasn’t what Melissa had expected to hear. 

“Yeah, I did,” Starchild said.  “You’re my friend.”  She looked at Melissa.  “You want to talk?”

“Honestly, Starchild?” Melissa said.  “Not that this isn’t nice of you, but not really.”

“Okay,” Starchild said, and that was another thing Melissa envied right now, how she could take pretty much anything in stride.  She’d been better at that herself once, she thought.  “You want to play music and make dinner?”

“Make dinner on what?” Melissa asked.  “The kitchen counter?”

“Sure,” Starchild said.  “I’ll sponge it first.”

“Gross,” Melissa said, but she got up and followed Starchild into the kitchen; she put “Iko Iko” on the record player, because at least the music was happy, and they started to cook.

 

_Four_

Back in New York for the first time in a long while, and all he wanted was to get into the bathroom.  But it was locked.

Skinner hadn’t spent a lot of time in New York, but he’d been there a couple of times as a young man, driving up for the weekend with friends.  He’d remembered this restaurant—a dive, sure, but not bad for all that.  He’d gone there on a double date once, and they’d gone dancing after.  A long time ago, but he remembered.  And now he was back—back in the US, back in the city.  He didn’t know how he felt about everything yet: what he’d seen in Vietnam, what it meant to be back home.  But he knew how he felt about this restaurant, and somehow it was still there.  And the food was still good, and the waitress left him alone when he wanted it.  But the bathroom was locked.  And it had been for a long time.

He knocked on the door.  “You almost done?”  Brief silence.  Muffled laughter.  Distinct heavy breathing.  He knew what that meant.  “This is a public bathroom,” he said.  “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, get the hell out of there.”  More laughter.

He suspected that this was the kind of place that didn’t have half-decent locks, and he was correct.  He shouldered the door open.  Two people.  Tall blond girl.  Weedy guy with a mustache.  Definitely having sex on the toilet tank.  They looked up, startled, at his entrance, and then the girl started laughing again.  “Oh man,” she said.  “Oh man.”

“Get out of here,” Skinner said.  “Other people need to use this place.  Go screw at home.”

“Will do,” the girl said cheerfully, jumping down from the toilet tank and straightening her dress surprisingly quickly.  “Don’t feel bad, man.  We get this a lot.”

“I don’t feel bad,” Skinner said, “but thanks for the reassurance.”

“You have a great night,” the guy said as the two slunk by; his tone was somewhere between courteous and contrite.  His fly wasn’t fully zipped, but Skinner didn’t feel like enlightening him.

“Yeah, have a peaceful one!” the girl added, and then they disappeared from sight.

Skinner locked the bathroom door behind him as best he could.  New York was a strange city.

 

_Five_

Dana had had more fun than she’d expected today—maybe the others were right, and the long, slow drive to Woodstock really had been worth it—but she was still tired.  It was already almost three in the morning.  And they didn’t exactly have the most comfortable sleeping quarters.  Frohike’s van was decent-sized, but it wasn’t in the best of repair, and it wasn’t meant to sleep eight people.  Still, they crowded in as best they could.

Dana wound up in the rearmost spot—if anyone opened the back door unexpectedly, she would probably fall out—with Mulder right beside her.  He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she snuggled in.  They’d been married just over a month now.  She still felt lucky, when she thought about that.  “What’s your verdict?” he whispered.

“I like it,” she said.  “I really loved Joan Baez.  Those last songs.”

“So I was right,” he said.

“Well,” she said, “you don’t have to get all smug about it.”  But he moved to kiss her then, and she kissed him back.  And he kissed her neck, a couple of times, and his hand was on her ass, and she didn’t want to stop but she felt they had to.  “Mulder,” she whispered, “no.  You’ll get me all excited and we won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“There is something we could do about it, you know.”

“Not in a van with six other people,” she said.  “One of whom is my sister.” 

The mention of Melissa had its effect.  “Okay,” he whispered, “you’ve got a point.”  He kissed her forehead, chastely.  “Good night, Dana.”

“Good night, Mulder.”  She leaned her head against him, and she was almost asleep when she heard the noises.

At first she thought there might be some sort of animals outside the van.  Then she thought there might be people outside the van.  Then she realized that the simplest explanation was usually the correct one, and in this case the simplest explanation was that Starchild and Byers were having sex inside the van.  Business as usual.

Which didn’t mean that she had to tolerate it.  “Are you kidding me?” she said, and the words came out louder than she intended.  But that was good, she decided.  “What is wrong with you two?”

“It’s healthy, there’s nothing wrong with it—”

She cut Starchild off.  “Don’t try to play that card.  I’m sure the rest of us have healthy sex lives, and yet we all manage to keep them out of this van.  Jesus!”  And she was the one to open the back door now.  “Look at all that.  Open farmland.  So if you can’t control yourself for three days, go out there and let the rest of us, who have been up since six this morning, try to sleep!”

There was a pause, and then Starchild and Byers scrambled past her out the door, moving unusually quickly.  “We’re really sorry, Dana,” Byers mumbled.

“Hope you can get back to sleep,” Starchild said, and then they were gone.

Silence again.  “Way to go, Dana,” Melissa said.  “You know, if I’d thought that would work, I’d have done it years ago.”

“Always the quiet ones,” Langly said.

“Nah, I knew she had it in her,” Frohike said. 

“Thanks,” Monica mumbled, rolling over.

And Mulder kissed her again.  “I’m married to the toughest woman at this whole damn festival,” he said.  She smiled.  After that, it didn’t take long to fall asleep.

 

_One_

“Do you want to dance?” Byers asked.

“No, I do not,” Starchild said.  “I didn’t come here as your date.  In case you’ve forgotten.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Byers said.  “But I thought we could still dance.”

“Well, we can’t,” Starchild said.  But, when he sat down next to her instead, she didn’t tell him to go away.  “Weddings give me hives.  You’d never catch me having a wedding.”

“Yes,” Byers said, “you’ve mentioned that.  Often.”

“Well, you don’t seem to get it, so I have to repeat it.  They’re just dumb,” Starchild said.  “And meaningless.”

“Hey,” Melissa said; she was sitting across the table from them, finishing a slice of cake.  “This wedding isn’t dumb or meaningless.”

“Says the girl who spent yesterday afternoon bitching about her dress,” said Starchild.

“So this dress isn’t my favorite,” Melissa said.  “So what?  This isn’t about me.  Or about your free love vendetta.  This is about Dana and Mulder.  They love each other, and they’re celebrating that.  And that’s the opposite of dumb and meaningless.”

“Look, I’ve got nothing against Dana and Mulder,” Starchild said.  “I’m happy for them.  I just think that weddings, as a whole—”

“And this isn’t the time or place for talking about that,” Melissa said.  “If you’re happy for them, just be happy.  Why don’t you dance?  Everyone else is dancing.”

Starchild sighed.  “Look,” she said to Byers, “if I dance with you, will you get ideas?”

“Ideas about what?” he asked.

“Long-term monogamy,” she said.

“No,” Byers said. 

“Fine, then,” she said.  “We can dance.”

But after dancing for a little while, she got an idea herself.  “There’s a lot of rooms in this function hall,” she said to Byers.  “They can’t all be occupied.  Right?”

“Probability would certainly suggest otherwise,” he said. 

“So let’s go find an empty one,” she said, and when she led him off the dance floor, he followed.

Their investigations were unlucky at first, but Starchild thought they had struck gold with a small room at the end of the hallway.  When she had the door partly open, she heard a voice.  “They’re going to miss us, you know.”

“I know,” said another voice.  “Should we go back?”

“Definitely not,” said the first voice.  Starchild recognized it now: Dana.  “I can’t wait until tonight, Mulder.  We’ll just have to make this quick.  Ugh!”  It sounded like something had been knocked over.  “This dress!”

“Here, maybe if we…”  Sounds of fumbling.  “There, is that good?”

“Yes, I think that works.  Come on, Mulder.  The things I was thinking about during dinner…the way you looked at me…ohhh…”

“Me too…God, Dana…so beautiful…I love you…”

“I love you too…”

She’d been accused (often) of having no understanding of the concept of privacy, but Starchild knew when she didn’t belong.  She closed the door gently.  “Let’s keep looking,” she said to Byers, and they continued down the hall.


End file.
